


Blindspot

by thebearking



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asgard (Marvel), Asgardian Reader (Marvel), Black!Reader - Freeform, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Love Confessions, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Pre-Relationship, Protective Thor (Marvel), Reader is Heimdall's Daughter, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Requited Love, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 19:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14527422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearking/pseuds/thebearking
Summary: As Heimdall's daughter, your sight is quickly taking after your father's, and yet Thor still manages to surprise you.





	Blindspot

**Author's Note:**

> so after infinity war my love for thor was rekindled and i had to write something soft after that movie. thor truly is the best avenger. enjoy this one where the reader is heimdall's daughter! also shoutout to captainafroelf for the title suggestion!

Lately, you’d taken to finding the tallest peak beyond the palace, just to sit in the grass and watch the world go on around you. Sometimes you would keep your eyes on what lay right in front of you. Other times, the sight was too strong, and suddenly you would see Midgard, Vanaheim, realms you’d never even heard of. When the images became too intense you would shut your eyes, rub your temples, and will yourself to focus just on Asgard, on the view of the valley behind the palace. As Heimdall’s daughter and the future guardian of Asgard, your eyes took after his own, often overwhelming you with their power. You would learn to rein it in, your father told you over and over. Moments like these were perfect practice. It was a good time for solitude, and silence.

Until of course, Thor finally found your hiding place.

You had a feeling he hadn’t meant to intrude. You were watching deer grazing thousands of kilometers away when you heard footsteps come from behind you, careful steps in your direction. You “reined it in,” bringing yourself back to the immediate area, and smiled. “You know, as my father’s sight fails,” you announced, standing up, “my own eyes grow stronger.”

The trespasser froze behind you.

You laughed. “And yet you still manage to sneak up on me, Thor Odinson,” you finished, turning to him finally and regarding the prince with a playful smirk. “You’ve found me.”

The prince was dressed casually, wearing a nondescript cloak over trousers and boots. His hair was tied back with a braided crown, emphasizing the golden planes of his face. He looked sheepish, smiling at you nervously. You took pleasure out of watching him squirm under your eyes; over time they had brightened from nearly black to a rich amber. “I wasn’t quite sure if you wanted to be found,” Thor admitted, taking a step closer, “but I noticed you sitting here, and well…” He chuckled. “I miss you.”

Your brow furrowed. “But I’m right here,” you reminded him, closing the distance between the two of you. You took his hands in your own, rubbing his wrists with your thumbs. “You know where to look if you need me.”

“I do, but you feel far away from here. From me.” He saw you frown and corrected himself. “I know it’s your sight, I know it troubles you. I want you to know, I’m here if it ever seems like too much. If you need a friend, a sparring partner, anything—”

“I know,” you told him, your smile returning, though it was sad and soft. “I appreciate you, Thor. I’m sorry if I haven’t shown it.” You turned and sat down again, your legs folded underneath you. You loved that about him, the fact that he cared so much about you and your well-being. “My father’s sight is overwhelming but it’s nothing I cannot control. I come out here to practice. You’re welcome to join me if you wish—”

“Oh, I don’t mean to—”

“—though I’m afraid it would be quite boring. I could sit out here for hours just watching some Midgardian tie his shoe, go to work, come home and eat, sleep.”

Thor grinned and sat down beside you, cross-legged. “What you see can’t _all_ be that boring.”

You smirked. “You’re right. There are plenty of images better left unseen,” you remarked, remembering when you had seen one of your “regulars” (as you liked to call them) in a moment of passion with a lover. “Nothing beyond your imagination I’m sure.”

Thor scoffed. “Go on, tease me about my imagination, voyeur.”

“Bite your tongue, heathen.”

“Make me.”

You threw grass at him, and he caught your wrist, more gently than you expected. You watched silently as he took your hand in both of his, brought it almost to his lips, then seemed to think better of it and placed it over one of his own, palms touching. Even without your sight you could see that he was agitated, plagued with thoughts of—what? Or whom?

“What troubles you, Thor?” you asked him quietly, interlocking your fingers, keeping your eyes on his face. With your free hand you tucked a windblown lock of hair behind his ear. You thought you heard his breath catch as you touched him. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

Thor sighed, bowing his head, his face taut as if in pain. “_____, I’ve a confession to make.”

You frowned. “Thor?”

His fingers lit with the slightest bits of lightning, just enough to make your hand tingle. “I’m afraid I haven’t been honest with you,” he murmured.

“Well, you certainly haven’t lied to me,” you assured him, one brow arching skeptically.

He sighed again, still avoiding your gaze. You wished you could soften your own eyes, but long ago Thor had advised you never soften yourself, not for him or for anyone. “I…admire you.”

You grinned smugly. “Why, thank you, prince.”

“You’re a terrific fighter, a faithful friend, a wonderful storyteller.” He was clasping your hand in both of his as if in desperation. “You’ve taught me so much even when we were children.”

“Well, I should hope so.”

“And you’ve always shown me such kindness. I know no one as compassionate and selfless as you.” He smiled, almost bitterly. “There is no hatred in your heart, and I know if there were, it would be well placed. I trust your judgment, always.”

“Good.”

“You’ve such a beautiful soul, a tender heart.” He was tracing shapes on your palm, almost tickling you. He spoke his praise so reverently. “Bright eyes.”

Your cheeks flushed with warmth. “Thor…”

“When I look at you, I can hardly speak. You leave me stunned, every time.”

Stunned? A prince of Asgard, lord of thunder, stunned?

He had your hand by his mouth again, gazing into it like it was the loveliest creation he’d ever laid eyes upon. “And I’ve realized that no matter where I go, no matter what I do on Midgard or anywhere in the galaxy…I’m always led back to you. I think of you always, wondering what you’re doing, what you’re thinking about, what you dream of at night.” He swallowed. “I wonder if you dream of me as I do of you.”

“When I do dream I dream of flying,” you admitted breathlessly. “You—You dream of me?”

Finally— _finally_ —Thor raised his eyes to yours, and you found yourself frozen to the spot in his bright blue gaze. He was so handsome up close, almost frighteningly so. You weren’t sure if you wished to back away, or inch closer to him. “I adore you, _____. More than anything. Everything that I am belongs to you.” He had his shoulders turned to you now, his eyes searching your face, or perhaps memorizing it. His hand cupped your cheek, rubbing away a tear you couldn’t remember shedding. “And I only want to know…do you feel it, too?”

“Thor,” you murmured, framing his face with your hands, “I feel it all. Tenfold.” You surprised yourself with laughter. “How could I have missed it? I’m with you so often, for so long, there’s nothing you could hide from me or _I_ from you and yet—”

“You couldn’t have seen it if you’d already told yourself it was never there,” Thor said quietly, his other hand falling to your waist. His voice was so low and so soft, you thought you might melt, or burn, one of the two. His face was so close to yours you could feel his breath on your chin. He had one hand in your hair, threading reverently through your curls. “So beautiful,” he said absently.

“Stay with me,” you exhaled, shedding another tear.

“If you’ll have me,” said Thor, and you leaned forward to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His own arms encircled your waist, and as you pressed into him, lips fiercely moving with his, he lowered you tenderly into the grass, hovering over you in such a way that you could feel the weight of him all over but you were not crushed by the sheer size of him. So many times you had imagined this, kissing him, holding him and being held by him, his hands carding through your hair or running over your leg as he showed off. You had been with others but none had compared to Thor; they were never enough for you, not when you yearned for blue eyes that warmed you from the inside out, a smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. Even fully clothed you felt that there were no barriers between the two of you, only your souls intertwined.

As wonderful and euphoric as it was, you had but one complaint.

You broke the kiss just as his lips sought out your neck. “Thor,” you said, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. “Thor, the grass—the grass is so itchy.”

“So is this cloak,” he grumbled, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

You grabbed his chin and lifted his face to yours. “ _Thor_ ,” you warned, and with your sight you could see a mixture of fear and excitement and lust, all boiled into one behind his flushed face and magnified pupils.

Thor sobered, rolling to his feet and rising with you in his arms, your legs latched around his waist. “To my room then,” he said.

“That’s more like it.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!


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